


cherry magic!

by starrynomin



Category: 30歳まで童貞だと魔法使いになれるらしい | Cherry Magic! Thirty Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?! (Manga), NCT (Band)
Genre: Fantasy, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, donghyuck as rokkaku, inspired by cherry magic, jaemin as kurosawa, jeno as adachi, johnny as urabe, johnten are husbands, mention of food, mentioned yook sungjae, yeri as fujisaki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28624116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrynomin/pseuds/starrynomin
Summary: "Jeno, Jeno, Jeno," Johnny repeated, disappointment laced in his tone. He spins the man to his side again, "You know what they say: if you're still a virgin by 30, you'll become a magical wizard!"The serious look on Johhny's face is enough to pull a hearty laugh out of Jeno, his blush dying down as he pushes him away, "That's just some stupid myth. You know that, right? Or else I'd feel bad for Ten for marrying an idiot."Now, it's finally April 23rd, Jeno's no longer laughing. And perhapshe'sthe idiot for not believing Johnny in the first place.
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Comments: 10
Kudos: 103





	cherry magic!

**Author's Note:**

> I thought of nomin in cherry magic and I couldn't resist! this is trash btw so don't expect much. I changed a few things so it's a bit fast-paced sorry lol. jeno gets mugged at one point but it's quick so if anyone is uncomfy with that, proceed with caution! also, I know jeno as kurosawa and jaemin as adachi would fit better, but I did the opposite out of spite :D

Monday, of all days, is the bane of Jeno's existence.

For some reason, it's always the slowest of all days. As if time snickered at their misery, each second ticking slower than the last, this universal song's pace melting into a soft, quiet lull. To someone like Jeno, however, it's more of a loud, chaotic, tune that comes from everywhere. Mondays to him are more destructible and hectic than any other.

Today was no exception, no matter how much he wants it to be.

"Jeno, could you do this for me?" Johnny, his senior co-worker, pats his back and uses the other to hand him a folder. "My husband's cooking tonight, you know how it is."

Jeno's body would scream in protest if it could, knowing how exhausted he had been after running around doing errands all day. His boss had told him to bring him a cup of coffee, but then it had been too sweet for his liking, the next too bitter, the third too cold and the last was, "This is good enough," with a grimace.

But Jeno treats Johnny as his friend, with the utmost respect, for showing him the ropes around here and telling him the little details about clients that no one else knows. It would be ridiculous to ever reject this man of anything.

"Can't let him burn down the kitchen again," Jeno quietly repeats, recalling the time when Johnny did overtime once, only to come home to a burning pan and broken sink, flooding his and his husband's apartment.

"You know it," Johnny said with a wink and a click of his tongue, pointing a finger gun towards him.

Jeno gives him a small smile in return, bowing slightly, "I got it. Get home safe, 'kay?"

"See 'ya!" Johnny skipped towards the exit, waving him goodbye with his back facing him. But before he could push through the doors, he sees the calendar at the corner of his eye, and the date hits him like a train.

Johnny freezes and in a blink of an eye, he comes running back to Jeno, spinning him around his office chair, "It's your birthday tomorrow!"

Jeno jumps back at that, eyes wide as his hands swiftly cover Johnny's mouth like a reflex. He stammers, "Yeah, it is. I know. But keep it down, will you?"

With a sense of determination flashing in Johnny's hazel eyes, he brushes Jeno's hands away and leans in closer, "You're turning 30, right?"

Turning 30 has no benefits to it, Jeno realized. Nobody says, "Life starts at 30," or "Enjoy your thirties or else you'll regret it!" or anything along the lines. Being 30 just means the end of your 20s, the greatest ten years of your life, and thus marks the start of your upcoming boring years. The pressure laid on him by his culture and family starts to settle in more: he should be married by now, with children to raise on his own, financially stable and oozing of success. Instead, he's still him.

Lee Jeno of the finance department, the man who lays low in everything he does, his life a monotonous film over and over again. To put matters worse, Johnny unabashedly asks with a voice that booms through the entire floor, "And you've never had a girlfriend?!"

A blush rises up Jeno's cheeks. He swats Johnny's hands away, turning his chair around again. He continues the given paperwork like it's nothing to him, but the hum he makes is undeniably awkward and deems otherwise.

"Boyfriend?" Johnny tries again, inching to his side like an immortal pest.

Jeno shakes his head.

"Friends with benefits?"

The question makes Jeno blush even harder, scandalized more than ever, as he tries to bury himself into the stacks of folders in embarrassment. "Why are you even asking?!"

"Jeno, Jeno, Jeno," Johnny repeated, disappointment laced in his tone. He spins the man to his side again, "You know what they say: if you're still a virgin by 30, you'll become a magical wizard!"

The serious look on Johhny's face is enough to pull a hearty laugh out of Jeno, his blush dying down as he pushes him away, "That's just some stupid myth. You know that, right? Or else I'd feel bad for Ten for marrying an idiot."

"Hey, Yeri!" Johnny spins his chair again, letting him face the pretty girl from the same department as theirs. "It's Jeno's birthday tomorrow."

Yeri's eyes widen, her smile going wide and warm, "Really? Happy birthday!"

A stone forms in Jeno's throat, rendering him into a choking, stammering mess, "Thanks."

Before he could turn to his work again, Johnny holds him still, letting him watch Yeri go back to her cubicle, "What do you think of her?"

The question catches Jeno off guard, melting into his seat, "Yeri? She's–nice, I guess?"

They watch her mingle along with their colleagues, displaying that pretty smile of hers, brightly beaming between her rosy cheeks. She laughs endearingly too and ever so kind, polite and generous; however, a woman like her with him, Jeno can't even imagine it.

Johnny nods along, all serious with his jaw clenched and his piercing gaze, "My sources say she's single right now." Then he nudges him, "Want me to help you out, bud?"

"What? No!" Jeno squeaks, using all his strength just to shove him away. He fails, terribly so. "I'm fine–"

"Jeno, listen to me," Johnny insists further, a sense of urgency lathered around his tone, "Aren't you a little worried? What if that myth was actually real?"

Scoffing, Jeno starts to gather the papers he had left off, "It's called a myth for a reason, Johnny." He then turns to him, equally determined and sincere as he is, "Just go home, okay? I've got everything covered."

Johnny then remembers the current issue on hand: Ten, kitchen, alone. He bolts upright again, "Fuck, okay, I'll go. Thanks again, Jeno!" He then rushes out, briefcase swinging in hand, the other waving, "And happy birthday, you wizard!"

The doors finally fly shut.

The thing is, Jeno's not proud that he's a virgin to begin with, but he's not ashamed about it either. It's just that girls or boys or anyone in general just don't seem to like him in that way. His middle school to high school life had, like always, been uneventful. College was no different too, as he busied himself in passing rather than mingling or pouring time for himself.

And that did him good, he assumes. The company seemed impressed with his resume a year ago, relishing in his talents and abilities. He drabbled into a lot of things during his college days and thankfully, it all paid off.

It landed him a spot in one of the greatest and most well-known companies in the world. The only thing is, Lee Jeno is a jack of all trades, master of none. Even saying that is a severe overstatement.

Jeno is the man who everybody sees, but nobody notices. He's subtle in everything he does, to his paperwork and reports and presentations that are just enough to get him by. He's quiet and timid, never been the one to engage in small talk and always far, far away from the spotlight.

Lee Jeno is no one.

At least, he is next to Na Jaemin.

Despite the fact that they joined the company at the same time, the two are strikingly different. Na Jaemin is the master of all trades, jack of none. Even saying that is a severe understatement.

Jaemin is the all-rounder of the company, the ace, the star player. He's everything one could ever look for in a man: devastatingly handsome, talented, hard-working, and just downright perfect.

Jaemin is the spotlight and behind him, Jeno is the shadow that watches.

Their differences have always been so evident, so as the treatment of their co-workers towards them. Jeno is almost always running mindless errands, delivering papers and sending files, being pushed around by his superiors and colleagues, and he follows them all with no complaints. Jaemin, however, takes the important business deals that no one else could seal but him, greeting and meeting big named clients and at most times, presenting his astounding ideas to the board that seemingly never run out.

It's been a year since the two first entered the company; one creating a name for himself, the other officially named as the office's Average Joe.

If Jeno could have at least one of Jaemin's traits or talents, perhaps he would have a shot on someone like Yeri.

But to Jeno, that would be like asking for the moon. So he stops moping about it, bidding farewell to his co-workers, and he trudges out the office with his backpack over his shoulders like a routine. He takes the usual route back home, stopping by for his favorite onigiri on the way, and then he falls asleep to live it all over again.

Lee Jeno, 29, living a monotonous pattern like a broken record, a man that's just as boring as his own life.

The clock strikes 12.

Lee Jeno, 30, still living a monotonous pattern like a broken record, a man that's just as boring as his own life.

Nothing much has changed. Aside from the fact that he's a year older, the whole world spins as it is. Everyone goes on about their lives and so will he.

Oh, and, he can hear voices now.

Jeno's eyes nearly drop out of their own sockets. Because aside from the demonic voices in his head that weighs him down to a deep pit of insecurity and doubt as usual, he can also now hear other people's thoughts.

Jeno's legs freeze at that, sticking firmly into the ground as he's pushed and nudged by other pedestrians at the crosswalk's end. The city's noise melts into a static noise, everything else a blur, and all he could focus on is the one too many voices in his head.

_"Ah, fuck, I'm gonna be late!"_

_"Did I forget to turn the stove off? Mom's gonna kill me!"_

_"I can't wait to go home."_

Startled eyes roam around, but not a single person had opened their mouths to speak. Panic starts to sink into Jeno, rendering his legs useless as he's shoved again once the lights turned green.

A man bumps into him, but only glares, _"Watch it!"_

The gasp in Jeno's throat gets stuck as another pushes him by the shoulder, _"Move, slow-poke!"_

Suddenly, Johnny's words flash into his mind, "If you're still a virgin by 30, you'll become a magical wizard!"

And as shocking as it may seem, Jeno comes to a conclusion. Johnny was right; he shouldn't have laughed at him and now, nobody else but the universe is laughing at him now.

-

It had been a week since the whole, _"I can read people's minds whenever I touch them; okay, cool, fuck, what am I gonna do?!"_ dilemma. Or meltdown, to put it realistically and now, Jeno's completely over it.

There wasn't much to do about it anyway. Jeno's tried to search for any article regarding his new "magic" but his efforts were futile. Perhaps he's the only 30-year-old virgin who had lived long enough to tell the tale. Not really something to brag about, so he tells no one.

Aside from waking earlier for a less crowded subway, nothing much has changed. He avoids people like the plague, rejects any offer to hang out, keeps to himself–same old, same old. No one had noticed either, just shrugging it off as Jeno's natural state.

One particular morning, however, he somehow couldn't escape the crowd. Jeno thought he got it handled. He woke up at 6:00 AM, left at 6:30 (and heard his favorite onigiri vendor talk shit about him), entered the building at 6:45, and he had let the people behind him take the elevator first. The usual routine until a presence suddenly stands beside him, "Good morning."

Jeno glances to the side, immediately stepping to the opposite side like a reflex. He had not expected someone to stand so close and so sudden, much less Jaemin, of all people. He quietly clears his throat, "Morning."

Jaemin smiles at that, despite Jeno's lack thereof. Flinching, Jeno looks away.

Na Jaemin is a whole other species of his own. He's buzzing with charm and energy, beaming his perfect smile the first thing in the morning, with his expensive three-piece suit and aside from his leather bag, he also carries this light, captivating air around him. It's downright suffocating to even stand near his presence, as you're overwhelmed with a wave of sweetness and warmth and all things good and lovely.

To be standing next to him feels like an honor, Jeno says to himself. He takes another tiny step away. Jaemin turns to him, tearing his eyes away from the elevator, "This thing's slower than usual today. Wanna take the stairs?"

The way his lips quirk and curl is pretty too which is undoubtedly unfair. Jeno sputters, looking somewhere else before he's caught staring, "I'm good."

Jaemin makes a small surprised sound, "It's good exercise though. Nothing beats a good jog before work!"

Jeno should've known this man's athletic, too. Jaemin's sickeningly perfect. He remembers hearing rumors about medals he's won, both local and internationally, in terms of academics and sports. He doesn't know if those rumors were even true to begin with, but it's clear in the way his toned arms flex and tense under his suit, the long, slender build of his legs, his clipped waist around his dark leather belt, and in everything he does.

The doors chime. The elevator cracks open with a clean sound and just as Jeno could gesture for him to hop in first, they're shoved in by a newly arrived crowd behind them. Jeno stands next to a wall as quickly as he can with Jaemin behind him.

Just as Jeno could heave a sigh of relief for escaping an awkward conversation with the one and only Na Jaemin, he hears a voice in his head.

 _"I didn't expect we'd run into each other this soon!"_ Jaemin's deep, smooth voice suddenly takes a high turn that Jeno's never heard before. _"Okay, Jaemin. Calm down."_

Jeno pauses. The great, almighty perfect Na Jaemin likes someone?

Unconsciously, Jeno's lips quirk into a small smile. He looks around, wondering who on earth might it be. Four women are with them; one short-haired, the second in a neat bun, the third striking long, luscious hair, the fourth having strands of white and gray.

But hey, who's Jeno to judge?

 _"Bedhead again."_ Jaemin coos _, "That's adorable."_

A pang hits Jeno. No other woman is inside apart from the four and they're all brushed up neatly, as expected within the company. He tips his toes, craning his neck to keep looking, but nothing. Even the men had brushed up neatly, tufts of hair styled back or brushed down.

Suddenly, the elevator stops.

"Excuse me!"

Someone from the back rushes out, accidentally pushing Jaemin next to Jeno. Everyone else shifts, crowding into them closer.

In a pulsing moment, Jeno's pushed against the wall with Jaemin's body pressing against him. Jaemin's folded arm lands next to Jeno's head, nearly caging him in, and Jeno holds in his breath.

"Sorry," Jaemin whispers, towering over the man, "Are you okay?"

Dazed, Jeno weakly nods. No one else moves.

 _"Shit. Too close, too close!"_ Jaemin shouts to himself, frozen in his spot and his gaze unable to meet his. _"It almost feels wrong that I'm this lucky today."_

Jeno just stares, his wide innocent eyes boring into Jaemin's reddening neck, and he nearly slips out of reality at the absurdity of it all until he hears, _"Fuck, I wonder if he could hear my heartbeat? I'd be screwed!"_

The elevator chimes again.

Jeno swiftly slips past the people, stepping out into a space with less Jaemin. But then he's standing by him again, an unfazed smile on his face, "Well then–I'll see you later, Jeno!"

Still stuck in a whirling trance, Jeno nods. Jaemin takes his leave, all bright and chirpy as usual.

The words ring again.

_Bed hair again. That's adorable._

_Too close!_

_I wonder if he could hear my heartbeat?_

Jeno's hand flails towards his hair and to his complete and utter surprise, a small part of his hair is stuck out, embarrassingly and–in Jaemin's words–adorably so.

Jeno reaches another conclusion, "Me?!"

-

But then that conclusion hits a bump.

Jeno creates a hypothesis instead: what if everything that he's been hearing had been some sort of delusion? Auditory hallucinations, to be specific.

He's heard of similar cases before, so it's possible. Perhaps that's all it is, really. Because a.) there's no way in hell that one could hear thoughts through touch and b.) the most bizarre of it all, there's an even smaller possibility that The Na Jaemin could ever like him.

Jeno is more likely to believe in magic rather than someone taking a liking to him–especially Jaemin out of everyone in the whole world.

It just didn't make sense.

Jeno looks over his cubicle, tipping his toes under his seat, and he sees Jaemin in all his perfectness, explaining something to a co-worker in great detail and focus, and yet he never once loses his charm. In fact, he tends to draw more people in that way, like moths to a flame.

Jeno pictures the two of them: Jaemin in his crisp, dapper suit, as dazzling as the sun while everything spins and revolves around him, the center of this very universe; next to Jeno, a man who's nothing but a speck of dust in that said universe, useless, insignificant.

The image alone sends a cringe up Jeno's spine.

"I need it tomorrow morning, Suh. That's final," their boss' voice booms throughout the whole floor, his brows furrowed in anger as he slammed the binder down the table, "If you can't do this, then see your ass out of my building!"

Johnny trudges towards their shared cubicle as Jeno scurries to keep his head down. Sighing, Johnny plops down to the empty chair right next to his, the binder in hand.

_"Ten's gonna be so mad."_

Jeno flails for a moment, before realizing that the tips of their shoes are touching. He looks over to Johnny whose got a distraught look over his sharp features.

 _"I can't cancel on him on our anniversary!"_ Johnny's eyes flutter shut, pondering to himself with a grimace, _"What if I just quit my job? He'll understand, right? Or–"_

His eyes snap open. Jeno stares right back at him, awkwardly fumbling, "I can do it–if it's okay with you, of course."

"Jeno!" Johnny wailed in glee, jumping into his arms, "Thank you so much! You really are the best; you know that, right?"

Jeno hums in return. He's never known when their anniversary was until today and yet Jeno stays stubborn, refusing to believe this magic he has and is certain it's just some sort of hallucination. He'll just ignore it from here on out.

-

"Johnny," Jeno whined, slumping backwards against his chair, "You better treat me to dinner after this!"

The excel sheet is flashed before him, the empty cells overweighting the filled ones and there are at least 5 more pages left in the binder. His co-workers have long gone, most of the lights out and the office empty.

"Jeno?"

Or so he thought.

Jeno flinches at the call of his name. He turns with his chair, paling, "Jaemin?"

The air inside the office spikes up, tensing around them like coil and Jeno's knuckles turn white at the taut clutch of his fists. Something starts to burn in his throat, something akin to coal that heats up his insides in all the wrong ways, gleaming through his neck and cheeks.

Jaemin tilts his head, his eyes crinkling and his voice down to a drawl, "You're still here."

Jeno hates how much glee those three words contained, despite how soft and fond they sounded, and how it slips past Jaemin's lips like a snake to its prey–careful, gentle, enticing but so dangerously deadly, too.

Before a word could sneak its way around the lodge in Jeno's throat, Jaemin suddenly reaches his hand out, "Here. I bought it for my juniors, but I seemed to have lost count. So here, an extra."

A can of cold coffee. Jeno's not really much of a fan of coffee, but this brand in particular had found favor in his tastebuds a year ago. Hesitant, Jeno meekly reaches out for it and for a fleeting moment, their fingers graze one another.

Jaemin keeps his encouraging expression, _"Oh hell, now I feel bad for lying. I actually bought this just for you–"_

Jeno quickly retracts his arm with it, turning back to his work with a stammer, "Thanks."

Hallucinations, Jeno tells himself. He clears his throat, mustering up the courage to end the conversation once and for all, puffing his chest up, but Jaemin cuts in. He abruptly steps into his space, resting his one hand against his desk until they're leveled and nothing but Jaemin's name rings in Jeno's head, "What were you doing, by the way?"

Gulping, Jeno tries to ignore the scent of forests and a subtle musk, speaking through his cracked voice, "Just compiling past transactions." He stammers, "I always do this anyway, so you can–"

"Kim's stationary data?" Jaemin reads off, turning his head to Jeno, "I think you'll need more than just five years. Here, I'll help you out."

The space between them had lessened even more, if that were possible, and from there on, Jeno could see every golden hue of his skin, count every lash that shadows over the high apples of his cheeks, trace every line of life across his pretty face, bask in every ray of light from his eyes and gentle warmth of his soul.

Jaemin gives him one last smile, "I'll go get the documents then. Wait here."

-

Fifteen minutes later and Jeno finds himself staring at Jaemin, watching at every elegant flick of his wrist through the papers, at every flutter of his long pretty lashes, and at every furrow of his brows in concentration. His eyes trail down to the dips and curves of his hands, paying close attention to the wristwatch wrapped around his slender wrists, silver and glass against golden skin.

Jaemin had been no one but a co-worker to him. Someone he had silently admired from afar. No one but an impressive colleague of his.

But now; now, something ignites in Jeno's belly, warm and fiery, enough to send his heart skipping a beat or two. His chest feels too full as he gazes at the way the suit fits Jaemin so perfectly, one that neither demands nor yells for respect, but instead draws it in a way that's so natural and right.

Jaemin is a man among men, hinting of cedar and a musk that's so faint and powerful at the same time, down to the cut of his jaw, to his lean and broad chest, to the tight pull of his suit across his rigid arms and to the piercing gaze his eyes hold amidst the pressure that the whole company bestows upon his shoulders.

Jeno could feel another seed starting to grow in the column of his throat, but he plucks it out with an awkward cough.

"So, where were we?" Jaemin continues their pace, voice always so low and sultry as he hands the document between them.

"Here," Jeno follows the row they had left on, tracing it with his finger. Slowly, he inches closer and closer to Jaemin's.

Their knees press into one another and Jeno hears, _"He smells so good. As expected. Is it his shampoo? Or, wait, a fabric softener?"_

Jeno steals a glance over the corner of his eye. And Jaemin's expression never falters, not even a bit as he says to himself, _"Fuck it. I'll check every store if I have to."_

A spark bolts through Jeno's nerves. He abruptly scoots closer to his laptop, typing in whatever his little pea brain had remembered. Jaemin smoothly follows him, his arm pressing into his, "This one's next."

Jeno nods, following his finger until he hears Jaemin again, _"Even the mole on his nape is cute. I just want to kiss and lick it so bad–"_

"Bathroom!" Jeno yelled, his body launching out of his chair. He speeds out with a stammer in his words, "Sorry, I'll be quick!"

Jaemin obliviously quirks a brow, his gaze following Jeno's scurrying figure, "Okay?"

The bathroom door nearly unhinges from its frame as Jeno pushes it open. He stumbles over to the sink, pulling his collar down until he spots a mole he's never seen before.

"It is there," Jeno whispers to himself. "You've got to be kidding me."

The possibility of hallucinations is crossed out. And the possibility of Jaemin truly liking him soars the sky.

Jeno reaches one more conclusion: "I'm fucked."

-

It's by midnight that they finish everything up. The ride down the elevator had been, to say the least, awkward. More one-sided than anything if Jeno were being honest, seeing as he's the one who knows something that Jaemin doesn't.

Everything, this new ability of his and Jaemin having some sort of attraction towards him, is too much to handle for Jeno's poor heart. For a man whose never had a significant other before, never even reached any romantic level or even puppy loves, he could only take on so much.

As soon as they walk out the doors, Jeno nearly lets out a relieved sigh. _Nearly_ ; because he lets out an unsolicited sneeze instead.

"Are you cold?" Jaemin gushes in at once, practically buzzing with fondness and concern.

Jeno sniffles, shaking his head, "I'm fine." He pulls the straps of his backpack with a tight grasp, his awkwardness crawling back, "Thanks again, by the way. I really don't know what I would do if you hadn't helped."

Jaemin's lips softly curl into a smile, his eyes crinkling slightly, "Don't mention it."

Another sneeze. Jeno apologizes this time, "Sorry, I'll go now. I can't let our star employee get sick or else they'd riot."

"Wait," Jaemin zips open his bag, pulling out a fluffy scarf, "Here, take it."

He holds it out between them, showing a familiar Line character's dark eyes and white snout, the rest of the scarf a cozy shade of brown. Jeno chuckles, "I can't. They wouldn't mind if I get sick anyway." He takes a step back, "Just use it for yourself, really. Someone like me can't–"

Jaemin steps forward. He drops his bag by his feet, before draping the scarf over Jeno's shoulders, his voice soft, "I can't let you get sick either."

As soon as their skins touched, he hears, _"Why do you think so lowly of yourself, Jeno?_ "

Gentle hands work their way around Jeno's neck, loosely tying and tucking the scarf in. _"I wish I could help you see the beauty and kindness in you. I wish you could see yourself in the way I see you."_

"There we go," Jaemin beams up at him, taking an easy step back.

For a moment, Jeno wonders why he nearly pulled him in again, why he almost whined at the loss of touch and warmth. He supposes it's just from the cold.

"Then, I'll see you tomorrow?" Jeno awkwardly says, not knowing what to do with his hands. He waves one last time, or flails, and then he turns on his heel to leave.

"Jeno?"

He stops, facing him again, "Hm?"

"Do you still have a ride back?" Jaemin asks, concern dripping down his tone like honey.

The thought hits Jeno, leaving his mouth agape, "I missed the last train, didn't I?"

Jaemin blinks and Jeno could hear the gears turning in his head. Quickly, he tries to dismiss the gravity of the whole situation with a nervous laugh, "Well, I can just sleep in an internet café or something."

"Or you could come over to my place?" Jaemin suggests, doe eyes blinking innocently back at him. There's no malice behind it, no harmful intentions, and yet his offer sets his nerve-endings alight.

And Jeno considers it. He really, _really_ does. Because despite the blearing fact that this man has a teensy little crush on him and invited him over his house–and oh no, _this man has a teensy little crush on him and invited him over his house._

Jeno realizes how much of a bad idea this is. But then his mouth moves on its own, "Are you sure? I don't wanna bother you anymore than this."

"No, no!" Jaemin rushes forward, desperately hanging onto this chance like a fish to a bait. He forces a not too obvious smile, "You're not a bother at all."

"But–"

"Okay, then it's decided!" Jaemin gleams, not letting him finish. He merrily pats Jeno by his shoulder and takes the lead on the way back.

At that pulsing moment, the quick touch of his hand onto his shoulder, a flurry of hazy, dream-like images flash before his very eyes. He sees no one but himself, draped in loose dark silk pajamas, his hair wet and a disheveled mess, a fluffy towel over his neck and it all seemed too intimate.

He pauses, his mind unnecessarily adding: _too romantic?_

Jeno chokes on his own spit, "What?!"

-

"Feel free to make yourself at home, Jeno," Jaemin chimed with a toothy smile.

Jeno hums weakly, letting himself in with his shoulders pulled taut. He silently looks around as he enters the living room, taking note of the lavish yet simplistic furniture, the spotless floors and the shelves lined with personal knick-knacks.

He really is in Jaemin's house. Jeno hears Jaemin shuffling around somewhere, humming a chirpy tune to himself, and the thought of them being alone makes the hair at the back of his neck stand on their own, sparking a small shiver down his spine.

It's a stark contrast to how Jeno imagined this night to go, but it's better than spending the night in a random internet café. This will have to do.

"Bathroom's at the back," Jaemin suddenly beamed over his shoulder, causing the latter to jump slightly.

Jeno spins to face him, fumbling to reply with a timid nod. Jaemin seems to like every small reaction he pulls out of him, basking in the redness of his cheeks like he was floating in a warm ocean against a gleaming, orange streaking sunset.

"You can wear this," Jaemin hands a familiar set of pajamas, chuckling, "These are the only ones I have left, so they might not fit. I hope you don't mind."

With a tight-lipped smile, Jeno carefully accepts it from his hands. Their fingers brush ever so slightly.

Jaemin's smile is unyielding, but the voice in his head screams, _"I only bought these 'cause I thought they'd look good on him. But I can't believe he's actually gonna wear them!"_

"Thanks!" Jeno sputters as he snatches it away from his grasp, before clumsily running towards the aforementioned bathroom.

-

"Why the hell do these fit me so well?" Jeno whispers to himself. He eyes the way the long sleeves drape off his wrists, the pants a perfect fit around his waist and down his legs. Nervous, he runs his palms across the dark, purplish midnight color and its light silk against his pale skin, smoothing the faint creases with a pout.

Still so awfully perplexed, Jeno steps out of the bathroom and waddles into the living room.

"Done?" Jaemin asks, his back facing him. He stands upright after setting the mattress down, doing a little clap in glee, before turning to Jeno. But as soon as their gazes lock, he freezes.

Jeno could feel his eyes _everywhere_ , raking and caressing against his soft skin like tender yet mellow touches, and his cheeks ignite in a pink hue as if he were too bare, too exposed, for him to see. He could see the wind-stirred waves in Jaemin's eyes brew into a storm, gleaming in streaks of flashing lightning and thunder of desire against the midnight sky.

"Jaemin?" Jeno calls out, voice small and broken.

"Oh, right!" Jaemin snaps out of it, gesturing at the mattress he laid out, "You can take the bed in my room, I'll just stay here."

Almost immediately, Jeno fumbles to insist otherwise, "What? No, no! You take the bed."

Jaemin chuckles at that, resting his hands against his hips, "Are we really having this conversation, Jeno?"

And Jeno tries so hard not to stare. He tries not to stare at his tiny waist wrapped in a leather belt, his work shirt tucked in his fine, well-pressed slacks, or the way his clothes cling to his torso that accentuates the lines and shallow streaks across his tantalizingly defined chest and abdomen. His watch catches the hazy glow of the light and Jeno nearly chokes upon realizing he's folded his sleeves, baring the runs of his veins and the dips of his hands across his golden skin.

"Yeah, I guess?" Jeno's throat runs dry, arms flailing, "Take the bed, I'll sleep on the floor."

Jaemin waves a dismissive hand, "Don't be silly. You're my guest, Jeno." He strides towards the bathroom, but stops to stand by Jeno's side to say, "Take the room. No but's!" before brushing past him.

Jeno stills for a moment. He could make out the lingering scent that Jaemin leaves in the room, so powerfully undaunted and chivalrous. His knees buckle from the waves of his scent. With every last bit of his strength, Jeno drops himself to the mattress and wraps his entire body around the soft sheets. And to his absolute dismay, even the blankets smell like him.

A few moments pass; all spent in Jeno suppressing the burn within his body, warm and taut like a furnace. The door clicks open and Jeno closes his eyes shut. He listens to the faint paddle of Jaemin's feet across the floor, followed by a click of his tongue, "I told you to sleep in my room."

The footsteps come closer, louder, slower, and each step sends a tremor down his spine like a hot whisper against his nape.

"Naughty, naughty Jeno," Jaemin's deep voice reverberates through his throat, heavy and lurid. He reaches a hand over Jeno's unmoving body. Jeno squeezes his lids shut, anticipation brewing in his stomach, until Jaemin whispers above him, "You shouldn't sleep with your phone next to you."

And then he's gone. Jaemin takes the phone away, carefully placing it on the coffee table, before tip-toeing to his own room. The door creaks shut with a click. Jeno lets out the breath he didn't know he was holding, his hand flying to his erratic chest, mouth agape in short breaths.

On the other side of the room, Jaemin slides down his door.

Together, they sigh in frustration, "I can't sleep."

-

In some stroke of luck, Jeno had managed to get more than an hour of sleep. He awakens to the sound of a sizzling pan, followed by the mouth-watering scent of soup and all sorts of dishes. His stomach immediately growls.

Still endearingly half-asleep, Jeno shifts upward, his head dropping to the side as he makes out a blurry figure over the kitchen counter. Broad shoulders come into view, all lean and prim, with a crisp work shirt, its sleeves folded messily to his elbows.

When Jaemin feels a gaze on him, he perks up and turns around, "Oh, you're awake!" He beams at him, "Just in time! Breakfast's ready."

Jeno closes an eye shut, dazzled by his blinding smile, before sleepily making his bed. He trudges towards the kitchen, bed head and all, his pajama shirt slipped to the side until his collarbone bares itself for anyone who dares gaze upon that porcelain skin. Jaemin doesn't try, not knowing what he'd do if he stares too long.

With a hand barely peeking out Jeno's sleeve, he pulls a chair.

Jaemin sets the table, placing the dishes like they were in a feast. He then takes the seat across Jeno, smiling at him with an inviting gesture towards the food, "I'm no professional, but I hope this'll be enough."

Admiration streaks across Jeno. A man of taste, dripping of charm and talent. He really is no one compared to him. Even at the first light of the morning, he looks perfect as ever, an undone tie draping loosely around his neck, a button or two popped open and although his hair is a mess, he looks drop-dead gorgeous.

Shyly, Jeno grabs the chopsticks and pinches a piece of tonkatsu between them. Jaemin keeps his gaze on him the entire time. Jeno guesses he might have one flaw, but one taste at his cooking and he beams like a giddy child, "It's–it's good."

Stars flash in Jaemin's eyes, utter delight flashing across his features, "Really?"

With an eager nod, Jeno hums, "Way better than mine." He takes another piece, softly smiling, "That's why I'd take any chance to eat anything home-made."

Jaemin's tongue slides across his lower lip, taking the tips of his chopsticks between his teeth, "Wanna come eat here every day then?"

Like a kettle on a stove, Jeno tenses till he's burning red. He squeaks, causing him to choke on his food.

Jaemin laughs at that, "Cute."

And for a moment, Jeno considers his offer. Once he realizes this, he chokes on his water.

Today's gonna be a long day, the exhausted and embarrassed part of Jeno's brain sighed out.

-

"Jeno! My man!" Johnny greets him as soon as he steps in, pointing finger guns and winking at him, "The boss loved your report!"

Jeno hums, bringing his bag down, "Of course he would. Jaemin helped me out."

"Jaemin?" Johnny gawks, "I knew it!" He grabs him by the shoulders, turning him to face Jaemin with ease, "You should go and say thank you! Treat him out to lunch or something."

"What?" Jeno screeches, "Are you insane–"

"You don't have to, Jeno. I didn't do much anyway," Jaemin smiles warmly, "You're already so talented; just put a little more trust in yourself."

With that, Jaemin takes his leave. Donghyuck, his new intern, clambers to his side with a folder and briefcase, practically beaming with excitement like a little puppy wagging its tail. Jeno's eyes follow them out and the moment they disappear through the halls, Johnny blurts out, "You're doing the _thing_."

Jeno raises a brow at him, "What _thing?_ "

"The thing when you find something you like," Johnny smoothly explains, recalling the times he's seen Jeno fanboy over Taemin's new song, when he finds a promising anime and falls in love with it in the first episode, or when he tries a different onigiri flavor and takes a liking to it more than he expected. "Your eyes practically turn into hearts; it's kinda cute."

Sputtering, Jeno rushes to make up an excuse, "What are you talking about?!"

"Come on, Jeno. I've had crushes myself. And I'm married now, mind you. So I know that look better than anyone," Johnny turns him so they're facing each other, his hands firm on his shoulders, "There's a new diner downtown. You could bring him there, just a small thank you. Trying won't hurt, right?"

The possibility flushes over Jeno. It doesn't have to mean anything, just a quick token of gratitude for everything he's done for him. Jeno's on the verge of agreeing when he hears, _"And you're literally a virgin in your 30's. It's about damn time you get laid."_

"I'll think about it!" Jeno stuttered, pushing Johnny away to hide his blush, "Now, shoo!"

-

Jaemin's out to meet with a client, both the higher and equal ranks are laying off of Jeno, which gives him too much time on his hands to think.

Johnny's idea rings in his head like a church bell. He could invite Jaemin to a less frilly place, downgraded enough to not give him the wrong idea. He could also just not invite him to dinner, perhaps make him a lunch box instead. But then he realizes he's not at good as he is in the kitchen, perhaps just a little smarter than Ten, although still not enough.

His guilt wouldn't let him settle for less when it comes to Jaemin. The man has always helped him in his times of need, especially last night and earlier morning. But wouldn't that keep his hopes up?

As the hours pass by, Jeno keeps going back and forth with himself. He fails to realize that Jaemin had long returned from his trip, now sitting at the side of his desk, a head tilted as he watches him mindlessly type on his keyboard.

"You're not going home yet?"

Jeno blinks, turning. He does a double-take, jumping from his seat once he realizes that it's Jaemin in the flesh. He panics at the fact that he has yet to make a decision.

"No, not yet," Jeno awkwardly answers. "How about you? I didn't know you were back already."

Jaemin sits in a slacked, laid back position on Jeno's desk, his long legs splayed with his ankle over the other, "The boss suddenly called me back in an hour ago, said there was an emergency and all. So I let Donghyuck meet the client instead."

"Oh."

Jeno loathes his boss even more tonight.

Noticing Jeno's silence, Jaemin takes that as his cue to leave. He takes a sharp breath in before lifting himself off the latter's desk, forcing a smile, "Well, that's that. I'll see you tomorrow then."

The words die in Jeno's throat, preventing him from even saying something in return, or anything in the lines of, _"Let me treat you to dinner!"_

Instead, nothing. Jaemin takes his leave.

The pang that hits Jeno's chest is indescribable. His gut wrenches at the sight of Jaemin moving farther and farther away from him, at the sight of him walking out without sparing him a single glance, at the sight of him _leaving_.

The doors shut. The clock ticks, time thawing into a quiet, steady wave. Everything spins on its axis as it is, Jeno's back in his little bubble of peace, and yet it all feels wrong.

Jaemin's never asked for anything from him in return. Never been selfish or unkind to him, but caring and thoughtful. An urge to pay it all back, perhaps even do more, grows inside him. That seed of compulsion blooms until it roots deep within his heart, sprouting vines through his system that push and pull his limbs to move one by one.

Before Jeno knew it, he's bouncing out of his chair and running through the halls. He hears the last elevator closing shut, but he comes between the doors just in time, pushing each side open with a breathless heave.

"Jeno?" Jaemin's startled, looking at him like he were a mad man.

"Do you wanna go get dinner or something?" Jeno rushes it all out in one word. Jaemin is awe-stricken as Jeno slowly brings his hands down to his sides, swallowing the ball of nervousness as he weakly smiles at him, "With me."

Jaemin takes a second to grab every coherent thought that hasn't left him. As he does, he stares blankly at Jeno.

Neither of them move, silently taking everything in one by one. Jaemin could hear wedding bells ringing, angels singing, fireworks blasting in his head. Jeno waits, a little in awe at the turn of his events.

But the moment is then ruined when the doors suddenly close on Jeno. With a small, pained yelp, Jeno backs out of the elevator, quickly aiding his sides in a dizzy state. Jaemin slips out the doors to help him, "Jeno! Are you okay?"

In complete and utter humiliation, Jeno weakly says, "Yeah."

Jaemin nods and for the first time, he looks out of his element. Shaken to his core, with little bits of hope sparking in his otherwise confident and magnetic gaze. He inches closer with a tiny voice, "Were you serious? About your offer, I mean."

The rare look is enough to send Jeno backing away, tongue-tied, "Do you not want to–?"

"I'd love to!" Jaemin beams enthusiastically, a little too much. He clears his throat to suppress his excitement, "Do you have a specific place in mind?"

"Jaemin!"

The all too familiar voice echoes from the end of the hall. Donghyuck comes rushing at them in full speed, his arms raised in glee, until he's right between them with an all too happy look on Jaemin, "I got the client! The Lee's are all in!"

Jaemin's jaw drops, "Wait, seriously?!" His hands instantly come up to hold the intern by his sides, "That's amazing, Hyuck!"

"Boss thought so, too!" Donghyuck returns the exact level of excitement, tipping to his toes, "So he's treating everyone to dinner. You have to come!"

-

"Here's to one talented hell of a man, Lee Donghyuck!"

The whole table erupts into cheers. They toast their glasses to one another, the place reeking of alcohol and buzzing with energy. Donghyuck embarrassingly scratches his nape, but the cocky smirk across his face says otherwise. Jaemin chuckles and tips his glass to him.

From the other end and side of the table, Jeno is quietly sipping his own. He takes only what he can, careful not to get too comfortable around his colleagues, especially with his boss here. Donghyuck beside him, however, fills the place with his contagious laughter and excitement, always somewhat being able to lighten the mood anywhere he goes.

The next hours pass by like a blur. Jaemin had been called out a few minutes ago by their boss (not like Jeno's been watching and keeping track, no), and comes back in with a card. He taps Donghyuck by his shoulder, "Mr. Jung's leaving now, can you show him out?"

Donghyuck eagerly nods with a mouth full of beer. He loudly places his glass down, saluting, "Yes, sir!"

"Atta boy," Jaemin smiles with a pat on his back.

Keening at the praise, Donghyuck doesn't waste another second to storm out. His seat is left empty, but not for too long as Jaemin smoothly occupies it for him. He rests his arm against the table, easily sliding to Jeno's as he fixes himself a plate.

 _"Yet another wasted opportunity,"_ Jaemin ponders, pushing out a frustrated groan, _"I could've been on a date with Jeno right now."_

Jeno chokes on his beer. It spills down his shirt, earning a concerned look from Jaemin, "Are you okay?"

Without waiting for a response, Jaemin grabs a napkin and dabs it against Jeno's wet shirt.

 _"Next time? I don't even think there will be a next time."_ Jaemin quietly sighs, _"I guess this is fine, too. I'll be happy as long as I'm by his side."_

"I got it," Jeno stammered.

Jaemin lets Jeno handle it himself, turning back to his food.

"Anybody up to play the king game with me?" Johnny offers, a deadly smirk across his face once he and Jeno's eyes meet.

They spend the first five minutes asking for chopsticks and looking for a pen, the next labeling each one with a number and drawing one with a crown. They all take one across the table and the building anticipation hangs heavy in the atmosphere.

"Aha, I got it!" a lady cheers from the other end, "Bow down to your queen!"

And she relishes in their misery. Jeno glances at his pick: **8**. He waits idly in his seat. An idea then sparks in her drunk mind after much deliberation, "I order number 7 and 8 to kiss!"

Jeno's expression freezes wide open. Who's 7?

"Jaemin and Jeno!" Johnny cheered, reading everything from a quick look at the expression of the two.

The place shakes from their excited yells and chants, "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

Jaemin smoothly masks his joy with a feign nervous chuckle, "Guys, come on. A kiss is too much, don't you think?"

"What the queen says, goes!"

The next words never leave Jaemin's lips as everyone keeps chanting, "Kiss! Kiss!"

Jaemin sighs, tensely turning to Jeno with a skittish smile, "Let's just get this over with."

Everything comes surging in like a thunderstorm to Jeno, whirling all his emotions with its chaos, as Jaemin leans in. He holds his cheek with a soft, tender touch, closer and closer until Jeno could smell his familiar musk and mind-reeling alcohol on him. Jeno's whole body coils in anticipation, his eyes squeezing shut.

Jaemin pauses and his heart wrenches at the sight. The look on Jeno's face is unreadable in his eyes, contorted slightly, with his lids closed tight and his fists clenched. Their lips are the closest they've ever been, their breaths mingling, as they share the moment to themselves. But it's short lived, it always is.

Jaemin shifts for the last time, pressing a chaste kiss on his forehead instead.

"Aww," the crowd coos in disappointment.

"You guys had one too many to drink," Jaemin backs away with a laugh. Then he rises from his chair, fishing out his phone, "I'll just make a call real quick, 'kay? Johnny, keep an eye on them and here–order dessert for everyone."

Johnny catches the card thrown to him, before winking and pointing a finger at him, "You got it."

With that, Jaemin walks out.

He pays no one a second glance, not uttering another word. The whole room looks dimmer now without Jaemin's captivating light.

Jeno's left amidst the crowd and yet he's never felt so alone. All their hollers and peals of laughter melt into an unintelligible noise, everything else a blur, as Jeno focuses on nothing but the weak beating of his heart.

_"I'm sorry."_

Jaemin had uttered the words to himself once their touches met.

Jeno rests his hand against his chest,listening. It's quiet, faint, as steady as the sea washing to the soft shore, as paced as fluffy ships of cloud across the vibrant sky, as gentle as a breeze through a luscious meadow.

The comfort from Jaemin's kiss is something he's never felt before, leaving a lingering feeling on his skin; it's both too much and not enough at the same time, his emotions turning into a flurry mess as his mind races. He hadn't even thought he could find safety in one's company, in one's gentle touch and nimble kiss. And yet there Jaemin was, proving him wrong in such a brief yet breath-taking moment.

There was nothing to be sorry for, Jeno realizes that.

And with Jaemin alone, having no one to tell him that, is picking Jeno's heart apart. He springs out of his chair, rushing out in hopes to search for a certain boy.

"Donghyuck!" Jeno calls out in the middle of the corridor, "Jaemin. Have you seen him?"

"Jaemin?" Donghyuck ponders, "I think he's on the rooftop–"

"Thanks!"

Jeno sprints up the stairs, nearly breaking the door open. The night's chill is the first to greet him, next the luminous petals among the dark clouds and crescent moon. The bustling noise below them dies in his ears. And so does every insignificant thing.

For now, Jeno's world spins only around the sight of Jaemin standing by the railings, his arms laid over the metal rods, eyes staring far into the distance. Jeno swallows down his nervousness, taking careful steps to his side.

"You're here," Jeno murmurs, "We've been looking everywhere for you."

Jaemin makes a weak, closed-mouthed chuckle, prompting his cheek over his fist, "The moon is beautiful, isn't it?"

Jeno hums.

Jaemin preens, "It's the perfect night to just stop and think for a while."

Silence falls between them and Jeno fears he could hear his heartbeat, ringing and pounding, as if it were moments away from jumping out of its cave. His tongue turns dry and his fingers start fidgeting.

Suddenly, Jaemin cuts the silence with a sharp intake of breath, "I'm sorry for earlier, by the way. The whole kissing thing. Between two guys, it is kind of weird, isn't it?" A heavy sigh falls from his lips, "I should've stopped them."

Jeno mirrors his stance until their elbows touch. Jaemin whispers, _"I should've stopped myself. I'm sorry."_ He gazes back into the view, keeping his small yet warm smile on, _"I'm sorry for liking you, Jeno."_

The electrifying contact makes Jeno jolt back and somehow, that causes his mouth to blabber too, "It's obvious I'm not really much of a ladies' man or even anything remotely close to that," He dryly laughs to himself, "And it's also obvious that I've never been in a relationship."

Jeno feels his chest and neck heating up as he fumbles, "Hell, I've never even kissed anyone."

Slowly, he turns his head to Jaemin, careful with a voice so soft and tiny, "But your kiss."

They gaze into each other's eyes, filled with yearning and something else he can't quite pinpoint yet, as Jeno weakly stutters out the truth, "I didn't mind it."

Jaemin's brain stops functioning for a moment. He stares right back at him with now nothing behind his dark orbs, just two empty abysses that keep drawing the nervous Jeno in.

Carefully, Jaemin takes a step forward.

The moon graces down at them, as if it were each other's spotlight, as the whole world stops in awe at this very moment, the stars twinkling like they would in a show-stopping scene of a play.

"Jeno," Jaemin finally says, his voice hoarse with a barely suppressed bliss. "Do you know what that means?"

Jeno takes a gulp in, the orbs of his gaze quivering in both anticipation and anxiousness, as he lets Jaemin inch his way closer. And like a marvelous, once in a lifetime eclipse, they lean in, taking all the time in the world, knowing it had stopped just for this moment, just for them.

"Jaemin!"

Jeno yelps away and turns over to the door, watching Donghyuck run in like nothing, "I knew I'd find you two in here. Come on! Everybody's waiting."

Jeno awkwardly clears his throat, hoping that could help ease the pink tints blooming across his cheeks. Jaemin forces a smile, "Is Johnny okay?"

"Johnny? That dude's fuckin' _wasted!_ You should've seen him!" Donghyuck cackles, pushing the two with him into the door.

"The rooftop's pretty cool, huh?" Donghyuck says down the stairs, the two following close behind him, "It reminds me of this one friend I have! When we were kids, he promised that once we all turn legal, we'll fight on a rooftop in dope suits. Like an action film, y'know?"

Jeno can't help but recall his own memories. His college buddy, Chenle, is the only friend who stuck long enough. Despite his continuing success as a romance novelist, he never forgot about him. Neither did he.

They talk when they can, never letting time hinder their friendship. Jeno then realizes the date. His eyes blow open like saucers; it's Chenle's birthday today. He makes a rushed, mental note to greet him later.

Donghyuck chuckles at the memory, waves of nostalgia hitting him as he treks down, "The police got involved and all. But that was years ago. He's a delivery man now and he dances in his spare time, too." Then, he jumps down from the last two steps, facing the two with a bright beam, "You guys should totally meet him!"

Both Jeno and Jaemin share a look. Donghyuck stays oblivious.

Jeno looks away, turning red, "I'd love to meet him one day."

Jaemin chuckles to himself.

-

The office is quiet today. Everyone's hungover, pulled the first thing they saw this morning and threw it on. Even Yeri's got shades on and her hair's a mess, numbly typing on her keyboard.

Only the occasional ringing of telephones and clacking of keys are what Jeno hears. And, for some reason, Johnny's happy whistling behind him. The man doesn't even look hungover, still dressed as neat and formal as per usual.

Johnny keeps whistling even on his way out. When he came back, a coffee mug in hand, he smoothly (not really) invades Jeno's bubble, "So, a little birdie told me you were with someone at the rooftop last night."

Jeno doesn't bother sparing him a glance, refusing to give him the satisfaction, "Was it Donghyuck?"

"Doesn't matter who my informant is, chump," Johnny spins his chair to make him face him for the nth time that week, "Tell me the good details or it's not gonna be pretty for you."

Jeno plays along, but with an amused roll of his eyes, "I'm not telling you anything, cop."

"Jeno!" Johnny whines, breaking already as he stomps like a child throwing a tantrum, "Please, please? I know you were with Jaemin, but you've got to give me something to work with!"

"Nothing," Jeno deadpanned. "Nothing happened. So just go back to work!"

Defeated, Johnny pouts and trudges to his chair, but sends a puppy look over to Jeno first, which was inevitably laughed at and ignored, and he plops down with a sigh.

To be fair, Jeno wasn't exactly lying. Nothing really did happen. They nearly kissed, but never did.

Jeno adorably fumes red at the memory. He recalls the mind-numbing scent of Jaemin's entire being, making his head spin and his heart race. He remembers the static between them, the undeniable magnetic pull, the tingling sensation his whole system felt at every draw closer, only to come crashing down in flames from a speeding meteor in the form of Lee Donghyuck.

A pause. Jeno thinks to himself.

Did he want to kiss him?

 _Oh, hell._ Jeno argues with himself. He harshly pats his palms against his warm cheeks, forcing himself to focus, to work and get the job done because that's exactly what he's for. Not fall for the charming ace of the company and for his dazzling pearly white smile.

Jeno cranes his neck over his cubicle, hoping to find the said boy but fails. His cubicle is empty, so is Donghyuck's, and he slouches back to his chair in disappointment. It's the same pitiful sorrow he felt when their moment was cut short. It nestles painfully in his chest, slinking down his stomach with a heavy weight and it brings down everything else along with it.

Another long pause. Jeno ponders to himself once again.

Does he like Jaemin?

Jeno's gaze flit to the empty seat on its own accord. Looking at it without him there feels wrong. It was as if a part of him had been selfishly taken away from him, and Jeno knows that feeling well enough. He misses him.

He longs for his deep, baritone yet smooth voice, the low chuckle that he makes that somehow thrums in his throat, the gentle look he always has on when he gazes at him, the annoyingly sweet smile of his, down to his tender touch against his ivory skin.

An even warmer blush creeps up to Jeno's cheeks, setting his whole body aflame, as he tries his best to deny it all. He vigorously shakes his head, hoping it'll throw away all his thoughts along with the movement. It doesn't.

Jeno reaches yet another conclusion: he _might_ like Jaemin.

-

The night is close to reaching its peak. Jeno's shift has ended. And yet, Jaemin is still nowhere to be found.

Jeno releases a quiet sigh. He steps out of the building and the second he does so, rain starts pouring down at him. At this point, Jeno's certain a dark cloud lives above his head, its lightning and thunder streaking bad luck and misery upon him with a timing like no other.

But then, he hears, "Jeno!"

Quick footsteps paddle towards him, followed by a shade above his fuzzy head, "You heading home?"

Donghyuck gleams at him, "We can share this umbrella while you wait for a ride."

Jeno gives a small smile in return, "Thanks."

Before either of them could take another step, however, they hear a woman shout across them, "Nana! You can't leave me here!"

Amidst the rain, Jeno sees a familiar figure under an umbrella, being tugged and begged by a woman slightly older than him.

Donghyuck gasps beside him, "Is that his girlfriend?"

The thought makes Jeno freeze on his track. Donghyuck hums, "Or an ex? They look great together though. Why the hell would they break up?"

Jaemin heaves a sigh, gently brushing her hand on his arm away, "Just go back, Joy. I don't want to get involved again–"

"Jaemin," Joy pleaded, sniffing through her tears, "Please. Just for tonight, please?"

Jeno looks at them. A woman with a slim, slender figure, with pretty eyes and a cute button nose, red luscious lips and just goddess-like in every inch and fiber of her being. How could Jeno ever compete with that?

A thunder rips across the sky, striking Jeno's heart in half with an ear-piercing bellow along the way. His feet start to move on their own, turning the opposite way, leaving Donghyuck behind. Leaving Jaemin behind.

Perhaps it was just too good to be true after all.

-

"Jeno?" Johnny's concern could be heard through his voice, immediately rushing to his side, "Are you okay? You don't look so well."

Jeno sniffs, lying through his teeth, "I'm fine. Just peachy is all."

"Peachy? You're literally pale," Johnny presses a hand against his forehead, "And you're warm! Don't you think you should be resting back home instead?"

"It'll go away," Jeno assures him, brushing his hand away, "Don't worry about me."

Although a flower of worry blooms in his chest, Johnny nods with a grimace and starts the day. Jeno does the same, only slower and blurrier, his head nodding off from time to time. He chugs on his sixth bottle of medicine and yet nothing seems to do the trick. The headache knocks on the back of his head like a mallet, each one growing stronger than the last.

The next hours trudge by. As soon as the clock struck 8, Jeno used every last piece of his strength to haul his body out. He runs a hand under his nose, sniffling, as he waits for a taxi outside the building.

Perhaps running into the rain at night really wasn't his greatest idea.

"Jeno!" a disembodied voice shouts out.

Jeno's eyes flutter shut in annoyance, his tongue clicking as the footsteps come closer towards him. Jaemin comes into view, his face flushed in concern, his gaze steady on Jeno, "Johnny told me you weren't feeling well. Do you need some help?"

"I'm fine, Jaemin," Jeno turns away, voice rougher and harsher than intended as he shoves him away. "I don't need you–"

Without missing a beat, Jeno's head spins. His eyes close shut from exhaustion, face taking an even paler look, and he falls back. Instead of hitting cold hard ground, however, he's met with a pair of warm hands.

Jeno forces his eyes open, seeing the worried expression over Jaemin's face. His brows had furrowed, forehead creased and jaw clenched tight, "What did I tell you?"

If Jeno's eyes weren't hurting, he would've rolled his eyes. Jaemin clicks his tongue before taking him into his arms, carrying Jeno in bridal style with complete ease, "Taxi!"

A cab then stops across them. Jeno fidgets to take himself down, but Jaemin tightens his grip around him, pulling him closer into his firm chest as he walks towards the cab. The driver finds it in himself to open the door for them.

"Jaemin, what are you doing?" Jeno panics when Jaemin climbs in beside him, his voice weak but his shock reaching levels he's never met before.

Jaemin looks at him like he had asked the most ridiculous question, "Taking you home, of course."

"There you are, Nana!" the other door is suddenly pulled open. A familiar woman joins them without shame in the back seat, "I've been looking all over for you!"

"Joy?" Jaemin spouted, wide-eyed, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Look, I took your advice, okay?" Joy heaves out a heavy groan, "I swallowed my pride, I met up with him, I tried to apologize, but he wouldn't listen!"

"So you skipped the first step," exasperated, Jaemin blurts out, "You lied. You _didn't_ swallow your pride."

"I tried to! Trust me, I did!" Joy leans in towards him, gesturing vaguely as if Jeno wasn't there to begin with, "But he was so petty, you'd do the same if you were me!"

Jaemin massages his temples, "You sound exactly like mom."

"Yeah, okay! I admit, I got it from her," Joy rolls her eyes, her arms folded over her flowy dress, "But I'm no pushover like you and dad!"

Jeno's brain stutters for a quick second, "Wait, what?"

"Oh, hi!" Joy turns to him, only acknowledging his presence now, "I'm Joy! I'm this loser's sister, unfortunately. Nice to meet you!"

Jeno shakes her hand, all while in a daze. She's Jaemin's sister?

"Who the hell are you calling a loser?" Jaemin yelled over, "And excuse you, I'm no pushover!"

"Yeah, yeah," Joy dismissively waves him away, "Anyway, I'm currently homeless so I'm taking your apartment."

"My what?!"

"Your apartment. Keep up, peabrain," Joy starts rummaging through her glitter purse, handing him a black card, "Stay at someone else's house for now. Or book a hotel. Here, take my card."

Scandalized, Jaemin shoves the card back to her, "Why can't _you_ book a hotel?"

"Sungjae's gonna do everything to look for me. And if it wasn't obvious enough, I don't want to see that fucker's face," she smiles at him and Jeno gets a familiar wave of warmth and sweetness from that alone, "So I'm using your apartment since you just moved in and he doesn't have a single clue where it is. Perfect, right?"

Jaemin groans, throwing his head back, "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you."

"I'm sure pretty boy over here wouldn't mind anyway," Joy nudges Jeno's shoulder with her own, "Can't you help a sister out and keep him for a while?"

Their arms touch. Jeno catches a glimpse of her thoughts, all racing with a stubbornness to show vulnerability to anyone, but also involves a scene of her crying over The Notebook and hugging a tub of ice cream between her pajama sleeves in Jaemin's apartment. Jeno feels a sense of pity, "I can let him stay for a day or two, I guess?"

Joy cheers at that. Jaemin is, once again, shocked to the point that he's speechless. His wide eyes flit between his sister and Jeno, but his opened mouth says nothing. Once he realizes there's no turning back now, he closes it shut.

Jeno chuckles to himself. For someone who claims to not be a pushover, Jaemin sure surrenders easily.

Either he was lying or he doesn't mind staying over at Jeno's at all.

Jeno quietly hopes it's the latter.

-

"Bedroom, bathroom, living room, kitchen," Jeno tiredly points each one out, making the tour quick considering his throbbing headache and how tiny his apartment is. Everything's in one place after all. "Make yourself at home, I guess."

Jaemin lets his eyes roam around, expression softening at the picture frames, shelves of manga books and a whole desk filled with cute stationery products. Jeno's passion could be seen in the littlest things if you look just hard enough. He sees unbridled love towards the work he does, to the reports and ideas he comes up with, to the effort he pours in working overtime and to the attention he pays to the tiniest of details. Jaemin's heart melts.

Jeno drops his bag to the floor, near the foot of his bed. He then starts tugging on his tie, struggling a bit, and Jaemin immediately notices.

"Here, let me help y–" Jaemin is cut short upon tripping over the bag, sending the both of them toppling down to the bed.

Jeno's breath hitches at the sudden closeness of their distance, wide eyes staring into Jaemin above him, as a lump forms in his dry throat. His heart stops for a moment. His stomach flips, turns and twists, more so when he unconsciously catches a whiff of his maddening scent, when his warmth presses against him like it were burning for more.

"Jaemin?" Jeno stutters.

Suddenly, the hand Jaemin has against the wall for support slips down. Now, both of his hands are on each side of Jeno's head, caging him in, and their bodies press closer, coiling tighter, as the simmering tension blazes warmer around them.

Jeno's entire body runs taut and his lips seek for something, the only thing that could truly unwind him, that could send him into oblivion and heaven altogether. He aches for his touch, for Jaemin, but instead, what he gets is an apology.

"Sorry," Jaemin shakily whispered. He starts to move his limbs, pushing himself off the bed and to a safer distance away from Jeno.

Jaemin coughs into his mouth, quietly ambling towards the bathroom with a red glow down his neck. The sight of Jaemin on the verge of breaking, of putting all logic aside, of throwing his calm and composed guise, makes Jeno feel hot all over. A chill brushes across his skin, his own body warm yet discontented, longing for something else instead. An empty bubble fills his lungs, looking, searching for a familiarly intoxicating scent.

Jeno stares dumbly at his ceiling.

And if it weren't for the fever, he never would've fallen asleep.

-

"G'morning," Jaemin greets, walking towards the table in the middle of the room with scrumptious dishes in hand. He fits right in his home as he places each one down. It's like he's been here for a lifetime or two, a smile dancing across his pink lips. "Breakfast?"

Jeno shifts to help himself up, but Jaemin's right by his side the next second, bracing a hand over his back and guiding him towards the table. They each take their seat across each other. Jeno breaks the silence with a rough voice, "Thank you. Again."

"No problem, Jeno," Jaemin chuckles, "You're never a bother to me, remember that."

A blurry series of scenes flash over Jeno's mind. He could remember a cold towel against his forehead, the sound of Jaemin squeezing it into a basin, his little whispers of sweet nothings and the gentle caress against his cheek.

"Eggs?" Jaemin offers, sliding a plate of sunny side up to him. With a rushing surge of gratitude for everything, for the very existence of Na Jaemin, Jeno happily digs in.

Below the low table, their feet graze one another.

 _"Is this what married life feels like?"_ Jaemin dreamily sighs, _"Joy could stay in my apartment forever. I'm staying right here!"_

Suddenly, a bell chimes. Jaemin grabs his phone from the table, inwardly reading the new text.

 **Joy**  
Sungjae found me. But everything's ok now.  
You can have your lousy apartment back lol  
_delivered 6:09 AM_

Jaemin's shoulders visibly slump at that. His expression comes down from its bliss, his lips protruding into a pout, his posture slumping from its usual prince-like stance. Jeno heard her whole message through Jaemin's mind and with a nervous gulp in, he musters up the courage to say, "Your sister's still probably at your house, huh?"

Doubt flashes across Jaemin. He turns his phone off, diverting his full attention back to Jeno, "Actually–"

"It's fine; you can stay here as long as you like," Jeno drops his gaze to his food, voice shrinking, "I don't mind."

Jaemin's beam comes back in a blink of an eye, "Really?"

Jeno hums, meekly stuffing his face with food as an excuse not to speak. He doesn't trust his voice around Jaemin anymore. But he trusts him enough to let him stay. And so he does.

-

"Good morning, Jaemin!" Donghyuck greets him enthusiastically, running as fast as he can to his side, but stops when he realizes that he's not alone.

"Jeno?" Donghyuck gaped. "You guys came together?"

"No."

"I'm staying at Jeno's house," Jaemin bubbled like it was nothing out of the ordinary.

"A sleepover?!" Donghyuck beams up at them with the cutest puppy eyes he could ever muster, his hands clasping to beg, "Can I join? Can I? Please? Pretty please?"

Jeno and Jaemin share a twin look, both not knowing what to do. Jaemin gets out of his way to make up an excuse for them as he clasps a hand over Donghyuck, ushering him to the side, "Hyuckie, we'd love to have you over, really. But Jeno is really busy–"

"Sure," Jeno suddenly says, giving him an awkward smile. "You can come."

Jaemin helplessly looks at him.

Donghyuck cheers.

-

At that time, Jeno thought it'd be a good idea. Donghyuck could act as a buffer between them, possibly make things livelier in the house, less suffocating and _less romantic_.

And if he could go back, he'd do it all over again.

In truth, Jeno doesn't know how to spend another night with Jaemin in his stuffy apartment. Last night had been easier, knowing he'd been asleep most of the time, being taken care and pampered without being able to protest. But tonight, however, when everything seems in a better state now, with the moonlight peaking through his lace curtains and shining down at them to set a slow, captivating ambiance, he can't even begin to imagine them in that setting, just the two of them alone.

Jeno would rather share that moment with Donghyuck and Jaemin. Or anyone, really, just to stop a rather specifically crude scene from playing in the back of his head. Anything to kill down the sparkling at the tips of his nerves, the tension and confusing whirlwind of his emotions. Jeno shakes the inappropriate thoughts away, slipping back into reality where they're all around his low table, an electric grill sizzling meat at the center.

"We should do this more often!" preens Donghyuck, happily flipping the pork over as Jaemin and Jeno uncomfortably nod. "We used to own a samgyup stall, did you know that? Here, see for yourself!"

With an excitement like no other, Donghyuck practically buzzes as he takes a piece of green lettuce, wrapping the meat around it along with other types of sauces. He then offers it to Jeno, eyes sparkling and expectant, and Jeno couldn't find it in himself to refuse.

Chewing, Jeno gives him a thumbs up, "It's perfect! Does your family still own that stall?"

"Yeah!" Donghyuck keens at the praise, "We can go visit them sometime!"

Jeno chuckles shyly, "Well, until then, tell them they did good."

The conversation drifts farther from there. Jeno mentions how jealous he is over Donghyuck's talent for cooking, or for everything at that matter. They bicker back and forth, exchanging compliments, but Jeno stays all too humble or in Jaemin's words, _"Too insecure."_ That thought wrenches Jaemin's guts, infesting his insides like some sort of vermin, eating and gnawing off of him.

He wants to show him how much of a great and amazing man he is, but Jaemin could only handle so much: his blinding jealousy, his building anger towards Jeno's attacks to himself, his urge to just push him down and kiss all his doubts away.

Jaemin's turn to cook then arrives and he leans in, his knee touching Jeno's.

 _"You're being petty,"_ Jaemin says to himself in a warning tone. _"I can't believe I'm jealous over a kid. And at Yeri, add Johnny while you're at it, too."_

Jaemin's name dies in Jeno's throat, never hitting the wind, and instead he watches him, eyes wide and oblivious.

Jaemin sighs, _"You're getting greedy."_

Jeno's knee jerks at that. He gives him an awkward smile before moving away, settling closer to Donghyuck's space, who welcomes him with yet another topic.

Like that, Jeno pretends everything is fine, but Jaemin's low voice never leaves him. It creeps up at him like the devil, whispering into his ear, with a sensual graze of claws across his nape, down his pale skin, to his chest that shelters the erratic beating of his heart.

And it haunts him to the last hours of the day. Jeno doesn't know if that's the reason why he can't seem to fall asleep, or if it's Donghyuck's obnoxious snoring, but either way, he doesn't like it. He tosses and turns around his bed.

On the floor, Jaemin and Donghyuck each have their own mattress. Both are fast asleep–or so Jeno thought.

Jeno goes as rigid as a board once Jaemin suddenly sits upright. He rubs his palms over his face, a small groan thrumming from his throat, and he stays like so for a moment. Jeno keeps his eyes shut.

Even when he hears faint shuffling and the rustling of sheets, he stays still. Even when he feels a presence towards him, careful and heedy, he stays _completely still_. Jeno holds his breath.

"How are you always so adorable?" Jaemin whispers. He gently tugs on Jeno's blanket, pulling it to better cover the sleeping boy, as his hands graze against his skin.

 _"What should I do to show you that, Jeno?"_ Jaemin's inner voice is just as soft as his, but it hits harder to Jeno than any other scream or yell to his face. _"Or maybe it's not my place to do so. Maybe your heart's already set for someone else. Maybe it's destined to be with someone but me?"_

Jaemin runs the pad of his thumb across the apple of his cheek, lingering at the pretty mole under his eye, _"I know I said I'd be happy to just be by your side, but every moment we spend together, you make it harder for me to just settle with what we have now."_

And as quick as the touch came, it's as quick as it went. Jaemin leans away from him, bed creaking and his body longing, voice barely above a whisper,"I'm sorry."

-

Ever since Jeno and Jaemin exchanged numbers a year ago, they barely texted each other. There were the occasional holiday greetings, once during International Samoyed Day too which Jeno found funny (Jaemin had missed him dearly that time).

Until a couple of weeks ago, where sending stickers, tiny heart emojis, and "Good morning! :)" messages had snuck their way into their routines, and it all came so naturally. Today, however, something's changed. And to Jeno it feels like the whole fabric of reality is ripped and stitched anew.

Either Jeno's feeling under the weather again or he's still bothered by Jaemin's sudden departure. He had left the house in the middle of the night, no goodbyes nor a note, just an empty bed and a missing pair of oxford shoes from the metal rack.

Jeno hesitantly pulls his phone out, his knee jumping up and down, teeth sinking deep into his lips. He opens their conversation and starts typing.

Where are you? |

Too demanding. Jeno deletes it.

Are you ok? |

Too formal.

:( Why'd you leave me? |

Too clingy.

Wanna go home together? |

Suddenly, Johnny's voice booms behind him, "Jeno! Can you help me out with this?" Jeno jumps from the sound, finger slipping to send, and his phone makes that familiar swooshing sound.

Wanna go home together?  
_delivered 7:45 PM_

Jaemin's typing bubble appears, going on and off for a moment. Jeno bites his nail in mind-wracking anticipation. Johnny secretly watches over his shoulder.

Finally, a chime.

 **Jaemin** **₍** **ᐢ** **̥ ̮ ̥** **ᐢ** **₎** ***:** **･。**  
Sure.  
_delivered 7:48 PM_

-

The walk home carries a deafening silence. Jeno doesn't exactly know what to do, more used to listening rather than initiating. Jaemin's usually the first one to strike a conversation, all while with a gorgeous smile and radiant beam.

Jeno's hands flail around himself as he struggles to speak, "So, how are things?"

Jeno flinches like he's heard nails against a board, but only worse with his idiotic, awkward question. _How are things?_

Jaemin whirs a low sound, pondering, "Never been better. My sister and her husband talked things out, so."

Jeno wonders why he's telling him this. Why he didn't obscure the truth from him, that way they could've spent another night together, but here he was, standing and acting in a way that's so unfamiliar to Jeno.

The Jaemin he knows had hearts for eyes and a golden soul, lighting up the darkest, dullest aspects of Jeno's life in such an unbelievable time span. The Jaemin he knows is a fighter, despite his angelic, pretty looks, but now, he was nothing close to one.

"Must be nice, hm?" Jaemin bitterly laughs, "To have someone like that in your life."

At that very moment, Jeno feels to be drifting away from Jaemin. His whole world starts to shatter and curl into itself, as his vision blurs and fixates on his roving figure. He feels strings tugging him back and that image of him and Jaemin–laughing and talking about everything and nothing in particular amongst themselves–breaks apart before his very own eyes.

"I'm sure anyone would be lucky to have you as their husband, Jeno," Jaemin laughs, but there's an edge to his voice, to that once beautiful and heavenly sound. It sounds so distant now, so new and fake, and that alone makes Jeno's heart ache. "You're kind and thoughtful and selfless."

Jeno struggles to keep up with him, forcing out a chuckle, "What's with the sudden praise?"

Jaemin takes a moment. His smile stays, warm and curled ever so beautifully, but the look in his gaze tell otherwise. Jeno could no longer see the stars in his eyes that used to light up his world, that made the whole galaxy spin around him, that did wonders to his system in ways he never thought possible before. And Jeno nearly drops to his knees just to see them again.

"You can say this is a goodbye of sorts?" Jaemin finally says, turning over to Jeno with a small smile, "I'm not leaving, no. I just need to step a back away from everything, from you."

Being the reason of Jaemin's pain, of his own suffering, makes Jeno's throat close off and his gut twist. He can't even dare imagine Jaemin wearing anything else but his smile, and yet, he's the one who first causes it. The very reason behind his unlit eyes and faux grin.

"From me?" Jeno's voice is shaky, dropping lower, "Was it something I said? Did I do something wrong?"

Jeno reaches a weak hand out, but Jaemin flinches back. And it's more than like a slap to his face, more of a piercing needle into his chest, but a squeezing grip around his heart, only to be stomped and ripped apart as he stands witness to it all.

People really haven't been easy to understand for Jeno. Jeno who's quiet and timid, who hides behind his long bangs, melting into shadows until they become one, who was raised to be always mindful, selfless, to first put everyone's best interest at heart instead of his own.

He'd never been able to read people in one glance. It's always being spoon fed to him, being talked down at him, the words careful and slow. And this gift of his had been the best thing to ever happen to him.

Now, when everything seems so confusing and deranged and unclear even with this gift, Jeno starts to have second thoughts. He doesn't know what's going on in Jaemin's mind and it's unimaginable how badly he wants to.

Now, when everything seems so loud and clear to Jaemin, he pushes back his greed and puts Jeno first. He's always been the type to easily read people like books, charming and swooning each one with a lovely smile, exceeding standards and expectations because he had been brought up that way.

Now, when Jeno's shown him nothing but discomfort and a stubborn push away, Jaemin reads him off like everyone else, too. Jeno doesn't want him; he never will. And it's time to finally accept that.

"Jaemin, come on," Jeno stutters, choking back a sob, "I can't take it when we're like this. We can talk this out! I'll try, just for you!"

Jaemin stays quiet, keeping his gaze forward and distant, jaw tight yet quivering. And it hits Jeno, the realization of it all. Perhaps it isn't him who's drifting away, but Jaemin.

"You don't get it, Jeno," Jaemin mutters, "And maybe you never will."

A tired scoff breaks past Jeno's trembling lips, "Why don't you tell me anything, Jaemin–"

"Because I love you!"

The truth echoes into the night's air. A silent void growing bigger and bigger between them. Jeno's ears ring and his heartbeat stops. Jeno had never expected that hearing it out in the open, despite knowing this already, could leave such an even stronger impact to his core. It strikes him enough to leave him frozen to the ground.

Jaemin runs a hand over his hair, frustration wracking through his raising voice, "And finally saying it, even thinking about it, is driving me insane, Jeno. It's making me selfish over someone who isn't mine to begin with."

Jaemin's sullen gaze stares back at him, a tired smile on his face, "I just need some time. When I get back, I promise, everything'll be normal. Exactly the way it was before."

Exactly the way it was before? Before Jaemin came into his life with no warning, no nothing whatsoever, with that brilliant and loving smile of his. Jeno can't even begin to fathom what life was like before Jaemin.

He's never even lived until Jaemin sauntered in; he made his heart beat like it was its first, made his lungs take in wisps of fresh air and an intoxicating yet homely scent, made his skin burn like never before, his body ache and yearn for something, for someone, and he had given him a taste of what living really is like.

Jeno stills. Will Jaemin really leave him? Will he really drop everything, all their shared, precious moments and everything else like they didn't even matter in the first place?

Jaemin backs away, giving him one last smile, a dying light in his teary eyes, "I promise."

-

The days that follow are a piteous rerun of Jeno's life before Jaemin. If he didn't know what life was like before him, he knows now.

It's the same as a month ago; awakening to the first morning light, a routine he's memorized like the back of his hand now, taking the lonesome subway to work, plodding back home, and he hits the bed with an exhausted sigh. The only addition to this pattern is before he dozes off, he thinks about how everything went wrong, fights off the demons of doubt and regret in the shape of Jaemin and his tragic expression.

And in most times, he does a bad job at it. Because somehow, in ways unknown, Jaemin manages to seep into his mind and starts burrowing in it, a visitor that will leave on his own time–which, Jeno exasperatedly assumes, is far, far into the distant future.

Jaemin's disembodied form flits in the most random and mundane of times. The real Jaemin, however, makes sure to never step into Jeno's view, not even a shadow or a hint of him. He brushes past him like they've done a million of times, before everything went into shambles, and they'd greet each other only for mornings and ends of their shifts.

Exactly the way it was before, just like Jaemin promised.

And in truth, Jeno fails to recall a time that Jaemin ever broke a promise. Be it to his superiors, to his fellow co-workers, to his new interns; Jeno's certain he won't be an exception either.

-

"Don't move," Jeno feels something sharp press against the small of his back.

The prayers he sent to heaven about something new happening to him for once has been answered. Just in the form of a mugger and his honed blade.

"Wallet," the man gruffs out, "Now."

Jeno takes an audible gulp, slowly reaching into his back pocket. The edge presses deeper into his back, creating a numbing burst of fear down his legs, causing the rest of his body to shake. He plants his feet firm into the ground and yet, the adrenaline just spikes up. He could hear his own heartbeat in his ears as his trembling hands pull out his wallet.

"I don't have much," Jeno stuttered, "Although I have to say I am kind of flattered."

"Shut it," the man shouted. Jeno flinches. Just as the man could snatch the wallet and run, a strong punch suddenly comes flying from beside them.

The man lands to the side with a loud crash, hitting the alley's trash bins on the way down and he never gets the chance to bring himself back up. A figure steps into view, pressing his oxford shoe against the mugger's chest, and the street lamp illuminates the new bruise forming on his cheek.

Jeno sputters in disbelief, "Jaemin?"

-

In hindsight, Jeno should've known walking mindlessly like an idiot would get him into trouble. But it's not entirely his fault; it's sort of Jaemin's too. He had occupied every nook and cranny of his mind until Jeno had found himself somewhere in a dark alley, a knife to his back and his life in the hands of a dangerous mugger.

Jeno doesn't know how lucky he is for having Jaemin and in the adrenaline of it all, he had invited him over to his house to patch up his wounds. His mind refused to stay still and watch him leave for the second time.

And so here they were, sitting on Jeno's bed with a first aid kit between them. Jeno rolls the gauze one last time over Jaemin's purple knuckle, doing so quietly and awkwardly, with a nervous breath held in.

 _"Going back here was a bad idea and you know it,"_ Jaemin scolds himself. _"Keep your distance, Jaemin. He's safe now; that's all that matters."_

"There," he finally heaves out, barely above a murmur.

"Thanks," Jaemin smiles, nothing peeking out of the ordinary. "You really didn't have to, but I appreciate it, Jeno."

Jeno tries not to stare longer than what deems normal. But he couldn't help the flipping of his heart, the fluttering of his stomach, at the mere warm presence of Jaemin by his side again. He had missed that smile of his, more than he expected, and it's like seeing the light back into his life again.

"You didn't have to help me either but you did," Jeno says in return, hushed, "Thank you, Jaemin."

"Good thing I was out with a client, huh," Jaemin chuckles. But then his expression softens, turning to Jeno, "You sure you're okay?"

Jeno shrugs, realizing the fear had long gone out, "Eh, it happens."

Jaemin nods. For a second, Jeno thought he was about to say something, but then Jaemin bites on his lip, hesitance splayed across his features.

"Well, I'll get out of your way now. Thanks again," Jaemin rises from his bed, his smile not reaching his eyes with a small voice, "Goodnight, Jeno."

The way he leaves is so easy and quick, no last glance or anything at all. And it makes Jeno's heart sink, the ridiculousness of it all; how not even a week ago, they were sharing secretive glances and lip-bitten smiles, lingering touches every now and then, and now they act like nothing but mere strangers.

Jeno had promised himself never again, to never let Jaemin leave with a heavy heart and without his pretty smile on his face, and yet he had done it all over again.

It's even worse than he had remembered. The drastic look on his face, the weakening light of his eyes like comets disappearing into oblivion, the smile that usually curled in the sweetest of ways now bitter and forced. And Jeno never wants to see that on him again.

The bed feels empty without him, colder, lonelier. Jeno's heart aches to have him close, to pull Jaemin back with every fiber of his being, until nothing else in the world mattered but them. He wants to be the one who'll patch up his wounds when he protects him, wants to be the one who gets to eat his homely meals and hear his lame flirting, wants to be the one who gets to touch him like no other, wants to be the only one in Na Jaemin's heart.

The door had long clicked shut, but its sound kept resonating like a ripple across his ears. Not a single trace of Jaemin is left and it makes Jeno's chest all weird. He turns to his last resort, dialing a number he knows by heart, and the receiver picks up on the third ring.

"I need your help," Jeno rushes out through his phone. A bundle of anxiousness form in his throat, his knees jumping frantically, but he talks over it all, "Hypothetically, if you had a character that could somehow read minds through touch–"

"What the hell?" Chenle groused at the other end, confusion evident in his tone, "Are you really pitching your fantasy novel to me? I mean, I'm sure it'll be nice, but I'm writing 3 books right now and I have a deadline tomorrow."

"No, just listen," Jeno clutches his phone tighter, scooting closer to the edge of his bed, "If you wrote a character that could read minds through touch and found out their co-worker had been long madly in love with them, what should they do?"

"I'd put them through at least two hundred thousand words of getting to know each other, three more for pining, five for the conflict and climax and then end it with a happy little kiss," Chenle easily lists off, plotting a whole trilogy at the back of his head already.

"Chenle, no," Jeno hisses, "This character's in a dilemma, okay? He doesn't know if he likes his co-worker back, but he does make him feel a lot of things and it's just all so overwhelming 'cause hell, this man's so perfect and hot it's infuriating."

Jeno takes half a second to breathe, "And he wants to make him happy, he really does. But he's too scared. He doesn't know if they'd work out or not. He could lose his power someday and that thought terrifies him 'cause how will he understand him then? How will they make it work long enough to the end?"

Chenle falls silent. Jeno's voice breaks, ripping through his throat, "How will I fix it if I mess everything up again?"

"Your character, you mean," Chenle pretends to stay on the topic, knowing how shy Jeno is with his words and emotions. "I'll make him suck it up and confess already, duh!"

Jeno stills. Chenle starts ranting through the phone with a loud, frustrated voice, "His power's neat and all, but even without it, they can make it work. Powers like that aren't even real but couples here last longer than lifetimes. Just talk it all out. Then they'll know!"

A pang hits Jeno's chest, "But, what if–"

"No but's! No what if's! You'll never know until you try! So, go!" Chenle practically shouts at him, the determination resounding through the speaker and it all makes Jeno's heart soft. "Go and write your own ending, Jeno!"

The words echo in Jeno's head. Loud enough to awaken him to the truth.

With a spring to his step, Jeno jumps out of his chair and tosses his phone on his bed. He throws all caution into the wind, clumsily sliding in his shoes as he fumbles to unlock his door.

The moment his feet touch the ground, Jeno musters up all his strength and adrenaline into the night. He runs and _runs_ , not a pinpoint location in mind, but he prays to the heavens to hear his cry. He hopes to find a familiar tuft of brown hair, a pair of wonderfully gleaming eyes, a bright smile dancing across soft, pink lips.

But, nothing. Jeno heaves into the chilly air, ignoring the painful piercing of wisps down his lungs, for all he cared about was no one but Jaemin. He looks around the quiet, empty street.

"Jaemin?" shouts Jeno, heart fast and chest tightening. "Jaemin!"

And then, a scene flashes before his very eyes.

_"The moon is beautiful, isn't it?" Jaemin preens, "It's the perfect night to just stop and think for a while."_

The night is no longer young, the buildings closed and locked for the day. Jeno comes to the one place that the moon would grace its beauty down the city the best, where its silver glow is the brightest against seemingly endless stretches of water and calm, pristine waves.

Behind the bridge's rails stands Jaemin, in a familiar stance with his arms over the cold metal bars. His gaze is distant once again and each passing second, he could feel him escaping from his grasp.

But this time, Jeno makes sure to never let him drift apart ever again. With a puff of his chest, a shallow breath out, Jeno takes a step forward.

One behind the other, slow and steady, until he finds himself a step away from Jaemin.

Although nervous, Jeno skittishly breathes out, "Jaemin."

The man seems to snap out of his trance. He turns over to him, his eyes blowing wide, jaw dropping but saying nothing but incoherent syllables until, "Jeno?"

"I'm sorry," he finally says. Jaemin is taken aback, but Jeno pays him no mind and continues, "About everything, I'm really sorry."

Before Jaemin could quip a question back, Jeno cuts him off, "I know I'm a coward and really, really awkward. I find it hard to express myself, but you stood by my side anyway."

A soft, fond smile splays across Jaemin's cheeks. But it's not enough, it's not the Jaemin he knows and adores, not the usual beam that never fails to take Jeno's breath away.

"And although I've never been good with my words and everything else, you have to believe me when I say that..." Jeno clutches his fists tighter, mustering all his courage to finally say, "I like you!"

When nothing but silence wraps them, that seedling of doubt starts to make itself known within Jeno again. He blushes in embarrassment, but all is fair in love and war, isn't it? And he's nothing but a boy fighting for that same love.

"Jaemin?" Jeno hesitantly calls, "Say something, please?"

Suddenly, he's enveloped in a tight embrace. Jeno stills, letting Jaemin wrap his arms around him like it's the world's last minutes, and he smiles at that. Nothing else mattered but this, finding safety and refuge in a person. Jeno's finally right where he belongs; in between Jaemin's warm arms, his light and home.

"Jeno, you were serious, right?" Jaemin breathlessly says over his shoulder, "I'm not dreaming? This isn't some sort of sick joke or anything?"

Jeno rolls his eyes in amusement, pulling away, "Why would I do that?"

Jaemin pulls him in again, heaving a relieved sigh, as he holds one hand up to the back of Jeno's head, the other braced against his back. It makes both of them feel a safety never felt before, a quiet promise. And Jeno swears he could stay like this forever.

But the cold night creeps up on them, time never on anyone's side. Chuckling, Jeno pulls away. Jaemin does the same, but slower, gentler, with a different light in his eyes.

It's a look that Jeno's seen before, although not exactly the one he was expecting when he came in here, but it's _something_ along the lines. A flash of want streaks across his dark orbs, gleaming stars and swirls of golden rings. His tongue swipes across his lip, gaze fixated solely on Jeno's. Sparks ignite between their pressed bodies.

When Jaemin's eyes finally flit upward, as if silently asking, Jeno takes his time to give him a delicate nod. Their hearts beat in sync, first steady, then quick and rapid and all at once.

And then finally, they both stop.

Jaemin kisses Jeno, soft yet tender, where it's nothing but skin on skin, love and desire, as their hearts jumpstart back to life once again. Their passion reaches volumes that transcends past the greatest and loudest of songs, past claps of luminescent lightning and thunder, and past their own heartbeats in their ears, all with a mere gentle press of their lips.

Jeno first pulls away, his eyes gradually fluttering open.

Once both of them have recovered, they share a love-stricken giggle. Jaemin finally smiles in the way that Jeno loves most, bright and warm. Jeno feels an arrow right through his heart at that.

"Actually, I have one more confession to make," Jeno cuts the moment short, voice shy and anxious.

Jaemin's brows jump at that, "What?"

-

"What?!"

Jeno rubs his nape, timidly standing across his bed, "So, _yeah_."

Jaemin looks like a fish out of water, his legs going weak despite being seated on Jeno's bed, "You mean to tell me you've been reading my mind this whole time?!"

"Only when I touched you!" Jeno immediately defends himself, "Which wasn't a lot, come to think of it."

Pink and red flowers bloom in Jaemin's cheeks, turning him into a sputtering mess, "What did you hear?"

Without missing a single beat, Jeno's cheeks are also set aflame. His voice shrinks as his feverish touch scratches against his neck, "Well, the mole thing."

His skin feels even warmer now, with the topic and all, recalling the _things_ Jaemin had mentioned. He quickly changes their course, however, with a tiny laugh, "You being sad over our almost date."

"Oh, fuck," Jaemin groans behind his hands.

There's a lot more that Jeno wants to say, but he figured withholding the truth might be the best for them now. He laughs at his misery instead, "Shut up, you should be grateful I have this magic."

"Oh," Jaemin comes to a realization, one that isn't quite the exact look that Jeno had been meaning to achieve. "This is not good; not good at all!"

Jeno quirks a brow, shifting his weight to one side, "What? Why?"

A bubble of nervousness simmers deep in Jeno's stomach. He did think about it; the possibility of Jaemin hating him for having such an ability and hiding it from him. It's close to invading one's privacy after all. But Chenle's speech moved him too much to the point of recklessness.

Now, however, Jeno doesn't know what will happen next. Perhaps he shouldn't have told him in the first place?

"You can read my mind," Jaemin repeated. "You can't even imagine what's going on in there! You'd hate me if you even caught a glimpse!"

Waves of relief wash over Jeno. Feeling the second-hand embarrassment, Jeno chuckles, "I mean, I kind of already did."

"The mole thing?" Jaemin frantically shakes his head, jumping farther away from Jeno across his bed. He takes a pillow and uses it as a wall between them with a panicked shriek, "That's barely scratching the surface!"

"Jaemin?!" Jeno turns as red as a tomato. "Just what kind of fantasies do you have?! I mean, I won't judge! It's just–"

"Wait," a light bulb practically beams above Jaemin's head, "You said you got the magic because you're still a virgin."

Jeno rolls his eyes, "Way to rub salt on the wound, Jaemin; how nice of you."

"Then what happens if I–" Jaemin's gaze rakes him up and down, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, "– _you know_."

Jaw dropping, Jeno stutters, "We just got together!" He grabs a pillow and throws it to Jaemin, who catches it in a heartbeat with an unashamed chuckle. "And I don't want to do it just 'cause you don't want me reading your mind!"

Something changes in Jaemin's eyes the moment the words left Jeno's lips. His gaze dims, only a flame of scorching desire lighting up in his orbs, as his tongue darts across his lips, "Oh, trust me, Jeno. I'm not only doing this to take your magic away."

Jaemin leans back, popping his first buttons open as his low sultry voice snakes its way in, "Touch me and you'll see for yourself."

A sliver of Jaemin's honey skin lays bare before Jeno's very eyes, calling out to touch and mark, to kiss and lick like a man starved. Jeno's feet move on their own, but before he could take another step forward, Jaemin's low voice rings in his ears, "But we'll only do this if you're a hundred percent sure."

Something forms in Jeno's throat, obscuring his breathing. He wants to say how badly he wants this, perhaps even longer than he could remember, but the words die in his dry mouth.

Jeno takes careful steps towards him until he's standing between his legs, a hand caressing the side of Jaemin's slender neck, whispering, "I want to, Jaem."

Jaemin smiles, shark-like with white, sharp teeth. He flips them over on the bed in a blink of an eye, hovering above Jeno in such a familiar position, but this time, an even bigger, carnal hunger seeps in their stomachs.

Jaemin leans in, "Good boy."

And just like that, Jeno had lost his magic. But the one between them grows and grows each passing day. They both make sure it'll stay that way.

**Author's Note:**

> [ twt ](https://twitter.com/starrynomin)   
>  [ cc ](https://t.co/0MCrJUFs0l?amp=1)   
>  [ tumblr ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/rjstarrynomin)


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